


Whim

by KyryeDuBarie



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Aren't I?, Bloodplay, F/M, Hair-pulling, I'm Going to Hell, PWP, Seduction, Smut, Well there is a smidge of blood, ehhh, neck biting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:03:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6080409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyryeDuBarie/pseuds/KyryeDuBarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With that, she leaves him to the dim lighting of the city and the room, the constant hum of the worlds beneath them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whim

**Author's Note:**

> So… yeah, I’m going to hell.  
> This is pure sin, basically self-indulgent Kaneki/Eto smut that as supposed to be in Acumen but didn’t fit the theme and got cut in the end.  
> It’s the first time I actually write a whole sex scene (At least a het one, huh, it’s weird, I have written slash smut before) so I hope I didn’t do too badly.  
> Again, I was listening to Depeche Mode

It’s like he’s setting everything up for her to do it.

Of course, some no name Ghoul who has apparently been hiding under the moniker of a horror story author, barely passing for human, would be no match for the Black Reaper and as such, there would, of course, be no need for her to be guarded by anyone else. After all, the place where she’s being held is very literally the headquarters of the CCG –and the halls are crawling with them-.

If only they knew better… -well, Kaneki knows better, but he hasn’t told anyone-.

She has always been all too glad to fuck with people’s minds.

-that’s not to say that she thinks she’ll be able to with his, not the current him at least-

But it’ll be a fun experiment.

-and he sure has grown from the boy that the steel pipes crushed along with Rize-

Alone in the bare room that they have provided her, she laughs and laughs and laughs.

.

.

Later, she steps out of her room with light feet, noting how thick the walls are to see him sitting on the couch in the adjoining room with his back to her.

He doesn’t turn around; he even seems relaxed.

One Eyed Owl or not, she turned herself in, and while she knows that to him it is more than obvious that she has ulterior motives for this, if she had wanted to fight him or raid the CCG HQ, she could have done either whenever without any need for the whole charade.

She steps around the couch; in his hands, he holds a book that she saw him bring in earlier.

The clock on the wall tells her that it’ll be midnight in a couple of minutes.

“You do not plan to sleep?” she shoves her hair out of the way and sits down beside him.

Perhaps it is time to cut it, the tangled strands are starting to become a hassle to deal with.

“I’m on guard duty” he says simply, eyes still stuck to the book.

“Well, you know that I am not going to try to run” 

He shoots her an annoyed look out of the corner of his eye.

Pursing her lips, she looks around the room, it’s as bare as hers –only the clock, the couch a little table and a chair adorn it- and not very big, although the view they get from the large window is killer. Finally, her eyes fall on the book that the investigator’s eyes are intently focused on.

Reading only one passage is enough for her to remember the name and the author.

He has good taste, but of course, she knows that.

“I see a pattern there” she says lowly. It is, after all, Bret Easton Ellis’ debut book, and certainly one of his darkest works “No wonder you were such a fan”

Again, he glances at her out of the corner of his eye and sighs so quietly that if she weren’t a ghoul she wouldn’t have been able to hear it “There’s leagues of difference” he says.

Eto smiles like a devil, crossing her legs daintily and shifting almost imperceptibly closer to him “In genre perhaps, but when it comes to characterization there is definitely a pattern” her hand comes to rest right beside his suit-clad leg “The main character especially, he’s… unadjusted”

“He’s just like the rest” It’s starting to get annoyed that he won’t turn to face her.

“Ah, but aren’t they all?” her voice drops, even lower “They wouldn’t stand each other if it wasn’t the case”

“That’s a way to see it” he says, again, in an infuriatingly even tone as he turns the page “It’s not like they all connect much, they’re just forced together by circumstance”

“But each one has free will, they could choose not to meet; but they are forming relationships based on their urges I would think, even if those end up being as destructive as the urges themselves.” And as she slides her body closer, her hand boldly climbs on top of his thigh. “In the end, as he himself says, there’s no need for it to matter later on, with all of them taking their separate paths”

And finally, finally, he turns his head to the side and really looks at her, his glasses glint as he does and his lips press together tightly. “You think that they don’t affect the others in the slightest”

Her smile widens, he’s not extending an invitation, but he hasn’t shoved her hand away either –and that’s saying something, the last time she touched him he cut her in half- green eyes meet bespectacled grey. “I think that’s the point of the book, to highlight the apathy of society as a whole” the dainty, small hand slides up further “The emptiness”

“I guess” he says, and suddenly stands, with her back to her, he speaks in that tone of his that makes her blood boil as he adjusts his glasses over the bridge of his nose “It’s portrayal is a bit cartoonish if you ask me” He takes a step towards the door “I will be o- “

But she is not about to lose so easily, not when it has just begun

His body is heavy, undoubtedly built from training and hunting ghouls, but to her, taking a hold of the suit’s sleeve and dragging him back, flipping their positions over so that his back is pressed to the couch and she’s standing over him with a smirk on her face, is as easy as breaking a toothpick to the regular human.

Slowly, she slides her body over his, fitting one of her bare legs between his hip and the couch “I think it might be so, but I also think that it’s just devoid of sentimentality”

“Because of that precisely” he says, unaffected “Get off of me Miss Takatsuki”

“No” she smirks, leaning forward “And that’s not my name, Kaneki”

It’s almost as if his name –former? Current? She isn’t really sure which name he identifies with right now- has ignited something in the depths of eyes hard as steel, a spark comes to life within them, and though his stony visage remains, she can tell that she’s made progress “And that is not mine” he says.

“But it affects you more than Haise” she’s all but leaning on his chest now, staring into his eyes, he looks back at her, unimpressed “See Ken~?”

“Go to your room, Miss Takatsuki” his mouth twists into an ugly thing.

But apparently, the amount of progress that she has is not enough, it is not like she didn’t know that it wouldn’t be easy coming in, that is part of the fun, in a way she can see how he’s starting to lose his cool slightly, not emotionally of course, but the impulse driving him is starting to become apparent.

Her hand finds his necktie and uses it to pull her face towards his, when their noses are touching she smirks “I don’t want to” and proceeds to firmly push her lips against his.

They are frozen for a second, the room is chilly and their two sets of eyes are open, staring into the depths of the other.

A second later, she is pleasantly surprised as she is thrown back and her back collides with the wall, flipping the switch to the closest lightbulb, leaving them with the dim light of the city way below and the lightbulb on the other end of the room.

His eyes are wide, and on the left side of his face lies his lone kakugan.

She doesn’t doubt for a second to activate her own and then they are aligned.

One of his hands closes around her neck as the other pins her left shoulder back to the wall “Stop it”

And it is the moment when she knows that he’s the most vulnerable.

“Kaneki-kun” her left hand grabs a hold of his tie again and pulls him down a little, while the right one snakes up his back until it finds that spot, just under the middle of it, at the place where his waist stops narrowing, and presses down. The barely audible moan and the slight parting of his lips is all of the cue and reward that she needs. “I’d rather not. I think you liked my little gift last time, what about this one?”

There seems to be a struggle of logic going on inside of him. 

He didn’t move or say anything 

“My poor Kaneki-kun, they have got you strung up so high” she pulls harder on the necktie, finding less resistance, and pleased, the One Eyed Owl grins “You can take anything you want, you know? I won’t mind” she whispers by his ear and proceeds to bite down on his jaw lightly.

It is enough.

If he weren’t pressing his lips to hers with savage force –albeit with slightly obvious inexperience- she probably would be wearing the most pleased expression that she ever had.

Truly, it was mostly the work of circumstance, but she was not complaining.

The fact that he’s clearly not very experienced only adds to the satisfaction –his kiss is all bruising force and lust-fueled passion, his teeth catch on to her bottom lip and she tastes blood- she has managed to rile this beautiful, warped creature up, managed to convince him to do something very irrational.

Not to be undone, she bites his tongue the next time that it slips into her mouth, relishing on the bittersweet taste that fills her mouth although, at this point, she’s not very sure how much of the blood is hers and how much is his.  
-they taste similar, for some reason, this makes her all the more excited-

Her hands have found their places too, one around his neck. Keeping him bent to her stature, the other has fully untucked his shirt and is now busy with the spot where his kakuhou lays buried again.  
The haze of blood brings on a haze of heat, she smirks into the kiss as the hand pinning her to the wall retreats and latches on to the fabric of her dress, pulling it up.

It’s very much alright, her hands are working at his belt already.

Several seconds later, the kiss breaks, she can feel the flesh of her tongue and her lower lip stitching back together as soon as it does and by the time that the dress has been pulled up and over her head, there is no proof of his assault on her mouth save for the blood that has smeared over her lips and her cheek and he’s wearing a similar look.

Eto almost feels dwarfed by his height, he’s not particularly tall for a man, but she is short for a woman, despite being older than him, and she’s always had a slight build.

Still, the way that she knows that despite his rough actions, it is still her that had control over the start and has control over the development of the situation, exhilarates her, and she’s not about to back down.

Deft, small hands work at the buttons of his shirt, teasingly brushing inside every time that she manages to one open, and finally, when she reaches the top, she uses the tie to pull him down into another bruising kiss as she unties it and lets it fall to the floor.

He’s hooked his forefingers under the straps of her bra and is looking at her steadily.

Eto reaches up and, in an unsettlingly gentle fashion, slides the glasses off of the bridge of his nose and peek through the crystals herself.

“Huh” she says, looking up at him and throwing them with precision, so that they fall on the leather sofa, right beside his book. “Even in this, we match, my dear Kaneki-kun”

His fingers pull up at the straps and slide them down her shoulders, even as he holds her gaze with a serious one of his own “We are nothing alike”

She huffs “Think what you will” a thin leg is lifted, and it wraps around his hip, pressing them together –his pants are already halfway down his thighs from the weight of the undone belt- and when she grinds down into him, Eto can see his composure broken even if just for a second, before the hooded eyes are replaced with suitably feral ones- “Whichever way, you’re my Kaneki, Haise or whatever you prefer”

She shrugs off the straps of the bra and her hands rise again, to wrap around his neck and by this point she’s all but hanging onto him, grinding down on his persisting hard-on. “You’re- “

“Shh- I know” she whispers, pressing her lips to his again and tugging on the shorter strands of her at the back of his head. Eto drinks in the half-pleasured, half-pained gasp that this produces “But you want me for some things, either way, you could say I’m a bit of a necessary evil”

His arms encircle her body, one of his hands latches onto the clasp of her bra and without the straps for support, it flutters to the floor without resistance, at the same time, he shuffles so his pants fall along his legs and into a heap on the floor.

With the hand that isn’t holding her by the waist, sustaining her back into a nigh-perfect arch that brings out the paleness of her skin and the rosiness of her nipples in the dim lighting, he races paths up and down the naked skin of her stomach.

It’s the hand that’s formed of his kagune, she notes as one scaled finger drags a moan from her lips by brushing over one of her nipples.

He likes it, the bastard, keeps dragging the textured surface over it.

At one point –when he manages to make her moan rather obscenely, Sasaki bends down to bite and suck softly at her abused nipple, shifting soon to its twin as he continues teasing it with his scaled hand.

Crying out and bending her back even further, she stops short of hitting her head against the wall behind her, and grinds down against him in retaliation. His reactions then immediate, to push his crotch back against hers, creating a rather delicious effect of painful friction which moves her into repeating the motion again and again as he kisses up her thorax and bites at her neck, until she’s sure that she has soaked through her panties.

Glancing down, she sees that he’s in no better state, with a damp spot adorning the top of the bulge in his black cotton boxers.

Whines are torn from her throat, and she wants him, who is being a teasing little devil by grinding against her core just right.

The hand holding her waist retires and it is replaced by its twin, and his hand trails down her stomach, scratching at the skin with mild force, just enough to leave quickly fading red lines, until it slips beneath the hem of her panties. It slides down the furthest it can go until, it’s cupping her lips and with hesitation, born from his probable inexperience, hi fingers slip into her entrance.

It’s mildly uncomfortable at first, he has large hands for his frame and his fingers, while slender, are long enough to make her feel a bit full.

When they curl inward, she sees stars.

Craving, almost desperate for more, just more, her hand slips down beside his and guides his thumb to rest against her clit, slipping the panties further down her hips.

Despite the inexperience he catches on quickly, rubbing circles around the wet, swollen nub and drinks in her moans as they vibrate against his lips.

 

And she simply can’t wait anymore after she starts feeling the edges of her vision go a bit blurry from the pleasure, she dislodges her leg from around his waist and pushes him back until the backs of his knees and his hand retracts to keep them both from falling over it.

He has the good sense to shift their position so he’s sitting properly on the couch and move the book and the glasses to the table just in time for her to push him back into the couch by his shoulders, and as if reading her mind, Kaneki’s hands find the sides of her soaked panties and push them down, before she finds herself pulling the last of his garments off of his raised hips, finally allowing his erection to slip free.  
He does not disappoint and Eto finds her mouth pooling with saliva.

Maybe some other time, if destiny is willing to grant her one, right now she wants him inside of her.

She straddles him, and he wastes no time building a rhythm much like the previous one, grinding his length along the seam of her pussy, slicking it up with the fluid that pours forth unrestrainedly., their chests are pressed flush together, and she raises herself up on her knees, hovering over him and resting her chin on his shoulder.

“Haah~” his hands grip at her waist as one of hers grabs a hold of his swollen cock and aligns it with her entrance. Eto starts slipping down little by little, and he groans at the heat and the tightness, unwittingly sinking his nails into the soft flesh of the writer’s waist “I really love you. Ken Kaneki”

He’s after all, both her child and her equal, the man that she has helped make and whom she plans to put on a pedestal to rule the world, above herself, he’s the delicious mix of corrupted innocence that she never hoped to find in the world of which she’d known the worst shades.

Ken Kaneki is the only other person who can ever, even from afar, make her feel like she’s not the only one of her kind in the world, even if their origins are radically different, they’ve met at the crossing of their paths at an exact point.  
Her spread legs find themselves completely open, a sweet sting of over-stretching inundating the tendons that join them to her hips.

And she rotates her hips, relishing on the pain and the sensation of being thoroughly filled and the heat of his skin brushing hers. 

Her hips rise, almost to the point where he’s slipping out and she lets herself fall again only to see stars as the head of his cock presses into some spot inside of her.

Then his hands settle on her hips and he’s the one taking control of the pace, thrusting into her with all of the strength that the muscles straining in his legs and abdomen allow him and bending his head to suck marks that will be gone by the time that they are gone into her skin.

Eto throws her head back, offering as much skin as she can to that robbing mouth and raising one of her hands to cradle his head to her chest, tugging at the black locks that do not seem to tangle no matter how much she messes them up.

Thankfully, the walls at the CCG headquarters are thick, else the cascade of moans and whines that fall from her mouth, or his rough growls –even the slapping sounds of their hips- might have given them away- but they are and it’s an ungodly hour when only monsters, lustful lovers, and other anomalies to the normality of the place would be awake.

She starts gyrating her hips on her own and he finds that a cue to drag the pad of his rough thumb along her clit again, flicking the bundle of nerves until she’s almost incoherent, quivering and moving almost automatically as her mind goes blank.

“Aren’t you a little ashamed?” he growls against the skin of her neck, where his mouth has come to make its home “God.”

And in between the whole pleasure and the slight pain, she laughs.

“How ah-bout you, Investigator? Don’t you see, we are ah-, neither one, nor the other.” His lips stretch into a smirk at her throat, and he picks up a brutal pace that would have wrecked her if she wasn’t who she is and she finds herself leaning into his chest, almost incoherent, with his hand still teasing at her clit and the other tangled in her hair, pulling her hair back so she’s staring up at him, at his mercy as he crushes their lips together and his thrusts become more erratic.

Sh herself feels the coil in her belly tightening up to the point where it’s white hot, and when it snaps, she arches away from him, vision filled with white and body shivering from the aftershocks.  
As the green haired woman is coming to, she feels him sink his teeth into the place where her neck meets her shoulders, hard enough to make blood pour out profusely, and he laps it up contentedly.  
Eto presses his head closer, cradles it with her hands as he thrusts u into her and finally, a foreign warmth spills inside of her.

He pants against her, bloodied skin against bloodied skin and when he looks up, she’s smirking.

“You’re a monster” he says, in a quiet voice, but without heat and barely any of the proper manners that he has been using with her.

“Aren’t we all?”

She smiles, sincerely, and leans into him, once more, tasting her own blood on his lips.

They kiss until their breathing calms and the sweat on their bodies dries.

When she draws away, he’s staring at her with an undecipherable expression.

Still smiling, she dislodges herself from him and stands to the side, taking a moment to appreciate the man that she has brought to his knees- or maybe it’s the other way around, she’s not sure- and, swaying her hips, Eto walks around the couch and picks up her discarded dress.

Before she disappears into the dark room that she’s to sleep in, she speaks one last time “See? We are the same.”

With that, she leaves him to the dim lighting of the city and the room, the constant hum of the worlds beneath them.

**Author's Note:**

> Umm yeah, I don’t have much to say now.  
> I’d love to hear what you think.


End file.
